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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

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svt-luna · 4 months ago

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heyyyy, i was wondering how would luna and hannie react to eachother being sick/ mobbed by fans.i am sure the members are very protective over luna but hannie will be extra protective and always be attentive over luna for each and every stuff. Protective boyfie hannie sounda cuteeeeee. my heart 💞 💜

𝜗℘ NOTHING MATTERS BUT YOU

❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘺. 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶— 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ❜

timeline: 2019

synopsis: When exhaustion and vulnerability collide, Jeonghan's quiet devotion proves that even in the midst of chaos, only one thing truly matters.

warnings: slight angst, sick!Luna, cursing, crying, fatigue, flu, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of vomiting, claustrophobia, mobs, paparazzi, frustration, doubts, mentions of hate, overall fluff, boyfriend material!Jeonghan, fluff, fluff, fluff, more tooth-rotting fluff, a rollercoaster of emotions, posted on Hannie’s enlistment (might invoke crying because of that fact.)

I’ve been getting a lot of sick!Luna requests so I have mixed all the ideas given to me in this one-shot, so I hope you guys love it 🤍 also the songs I was listening to on a loop as I was writing this are: ‘nothing matters but you’, ‘pov’, ‘imperfect for you’, and ‘sweet nothing’— so you can listen to those songs if you want!!

also, I purposely waited to post this till this very day 🥹 I really hope it gives you comfort for this dreaded day… Hannie might be gone for a while but I hope my posts make up for it (this is how I cope) 🤍

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pounding.

Luna couldn’t tell if it was coming from the deep ache in her head, the constant pounding in her ears from the screams surrounding them, or the heavy thud of her own footsteps against the tiled floor.

Maybe it was all of them all together.

Each beat seemed to blur into the next, a constant, overwhelming drum that wouldn’t let her think clearly.

All fourteen members of SEVENTEEN moved in unison through the airport on their way to LA for KCON 2019, security guiding them toward their gate. Flanked by bodyguards, they were shielded from the sea of fans pressing in, screaming their names, reaching out to touch them, phones held high to capture a fleeting moment.

Ahead of her walked Seungcheol, their leader, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a steady force. Behind her, Jeonghan’s footsteps echoed close, his presence always within reach, always steady.

But none of it helped the dull throb pulsing through her temples. Luna’s head was killing her. The flashes from the cameras set up by the media didn’t help either; each flicker of light sent sharp jolts through her skull, making her stomach churn with nausea.

She was sick— she knew that much.

It had been building for days, the flu creeping up on her from the constant traveling, the back-to-back practice sessions and the late nights spent rehearsing until her body couldn’t take it anymore. But now, walking in between her members, with hundreds of eyes watching her every move, she had to keep it together.

At least she’s dressed great— that’s what Luna told herself to keep her spirits up… it really wasn't working. Fashionable as ever, she was dressed in her usual chic, comfy airport style, but today her outfit served more than just looks. The oversized fluffy bucket hat cast a shadow over her eyes, concealing the exhaustion in them, while the face mask helped hide the pallor of her skin and the grimace that threatened to show every time her head pounded.

Normally, Luna would wave at the fans, offer a smile, or maybe even pose for a photo. But today, she only managed a few weak waves before lowering her head again, hoping the fans would think she was just sleepy and not worry about her health.

The closer they got to the gate, the tighter the space seemed to become.

Luna lifted her head slightly, catching sight of the crowd pressing in. Fans were pushing to get a glimpse, their hands outstretched, desperate to touch any part of the group, and security was doing their best to hold them back.

Her flu plus the noise, the lights, and the bodies crowding in— it all felt suffocating.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Luna's chest tightened as her breath quickened, each inhale feeling shallow and unsatisfying.

Normally, in moments like this, Luna would do her breathing exercises. She’d ground herself, focus on something steady, and calm her racing heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But today, everything felt wrong.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her body was tired, too tired to fight back the waves of anxiety threatening to consume her.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her vision blurred slightly, and the pounding grew louder, and harsher until she finally understood— this pounding wasn’t just in her head.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, a beat so hard and fast it felt like it would burst out of her.

Behind her, Jeonghan was watching her every move, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

He saw the way she stilled for just a split second, the way her shoulders tensed as if bracing for something. He noticed how her hands, usually loose and graceful at her sides, were now clenched into fists, her breathing too fast, too shallow.

His gaze sharpened further, worry etching into his features. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hand finding hers, prying her fingers open gently. His touch was soft, but firm, as he intertwined his fingers with hers, rubbing small, soothing circles into her palm.

“You’re okay, Nana-ya. Just breathe,” he whispered softly, his voice low and steady, meant only for her. “We’re almost there. Focus on me, okay? Count with me if you need to.”

His words cut through the chaos in her mind, his voice the one steady thing she could hold on to. She closed her eyes briefly, grounding herself in the feel of his hand, the warmth of his touch, the familiar and comforting scent of his perfume, and the soothing rhythm of his voice.

“One step at a time,” Jeonghan continued, his thumb still stroking the back of her hand. “We’ll be at the gate soon. You can rest once we get there.”

He kept talking, his words a careful balance of distraction and comfort, pulling her mind away from the overwhelming noise and back to him.

Slowly, Luna’s breathing began to even out, her heartbeat returning to a more manageable pace. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, leaving her more exhausted than before.

She leaned into Jeonghan slightly, letting herself rest against him, her safe space, as they finally reached their gate, away from the crowd, away from the cameras.

Once they reached the private lounge, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward a plush couch near the floor-to-ceiling windows, the vast expanse of the airport runway visible just beyond. The planes, a mix of sleek white and metal gray, dotted the tarmac, and the low hum of activity outside served as a soothing backdrop compared to the chaos they’d just escaped.

Jeonghan’s hand never left hers, their fingers intertwined as she waddled beside him, each step slow and tired. She was beyond exhausted, her body heavy with sickness, yet Jeonghan’s touch anchored her, guiding her through the fog of her fatigue.

When they reached the couch, he helped her settle down, his touch as gentle as always. As soon as Luna sank into the cushions, her body practically melted into the soft fabric. She turned her head, laying it against Jeonghan’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

The cool glass window before her framed the scene outside— the luggage carts moving in their organized chaos, the steady movements of the ground crew— but she barely registered any of it.

Luna just needed a moment to breathe.

Jeonghan’s presence next to her was grounding, his shoulder warm and solid beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes again, gaze trained on the ramp and the plane in front of them, trying to focus on anything but the ache still pounding in her temples. The rhythmic movements of the airport outside, the planes being loaded, gave her something to latch onto, something to quiet her racing thoughts.

The members gathered in the lounge, scattered on the surrounding couches and chairs. At first glance, they seemed relaxed, chatting in low voices, but the way their eyes kept flicking over to Luna didn’t go unnoticed. They knew she was sick— had seen it on her face for days— but now, seeing the weariness settle in her features, they realized how much tired she looked.

Dino, the youngest, opened his mouth as if to ask how she was feeling, but before he could utter a word, Jeonghan glanced over his shoulder and gave a subtle, calm, but firm look.

It was a wordless command, the kind of look that said, Not now.

Seungcheol, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at Jeonghan, silently asking if everything was okay. The two eldest exchanged a brief glance, an entire conversation passing between them without words. Jeonghan’s slow, reassuring nod told him everything he needed to know.

This wasn’t Luna’s first anxiety attack. She’d had multiple of them before, although it had been a while since her last one. She’d been managing them so well, but today, with the flu weakening her defenses, it had slipped through.

Seungcheol, understanding the situation, gave a barely perceptible nod back. The other members saw the exchange and, without a word, fell into a quiet understanding, lowering their voices and making sure the space around Luna remained as peaceful as possible.

Jeonghan turned back to Luna, his eyes softening as he took in her tired expression. She was still gazing out the window, her eyes following the movements of the airport crew as they loaded luggage onto the planes.

He knew her too well— knew that she was counting in her head, focusing on each piece of luggage as it was lifted and placed into the cargo hold, using it as a distraction to keep her mind occupied.

“Good job. You’re doing such a good job,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the ambient noise around them. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, soothing motions. His other hand still held hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her skin. “There you go, Jiyeonie, You’re doing so well.”

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in a different way, a warmth blossoming in her chest even though she still felt so drained. She wasn’t fully okay, but with him there, she felt safer, more grounded.

The world outside continued its steady pace, the rhythmic movements of the airport playing out in front of her. Luna’s eyes still remained following the luggage cart, watching as it carried suitcases toward the plane.

Jeonghan, after much thought, leaned in a little closer. “I bet they lost your luggage,” he joked, his voice still quiet but laced with a teasing edge.

Despite the heaviness in her body, Luna couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She turned her head just enough to give him a playful pout. “Is that your way of making me feel better?” she asked softly, her voice scratchy from fatigue.

Jeonghan smiled down at her, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering as if she was something fragile, something so precious.

The way he looked at her at that moment— it was as if she hung the moon and stars as if nothing else mattered but her, like she was the center of his universe.

“I know it will,” he replied, his smug smile widening just a fraction. “Because then I’ll get to buy you new clothes.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with amusement despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She couldn’t believe how easily he could see right through her, how effortlessly he made her feel better without even trying.

It was like he had some sort of superpower— knowing exactly what she needed before she even realized it herself.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, pulling Luna a little closer to his side, his hand still gently playing with her hair. The rhythm of his fingers brushing through her strands was slow and steady, matching the calming atmosphere around them.

Luna shifted slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she allowed herself to fully relax into him, her cheek pressed comfortably against his shoulder.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” Jeonghan whispered, a playful lilt in his voice as he glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a fond smile.

Luna groaned softly, not even bothering to open her eyes. “I’m not cute. Definitely not cute now,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible as exhaustion weighed down her every word.

Jeonghan chuckled, low and soothing, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Yes, you are. My cute little Jiyeonie. You’re always cute,” he cooed, his tone shifting into that familiar baby talk that he always used when he wanted to tease her.

Luna, too tired to argue, just grumbled in response, burying her face further into his shoulder. She knew there was no point in protesting; Jeonghan would always win this argument, and deep down, she didn’t mind. Not when his voice was so soft, so comforting.

“Hmm, you’re doing so well, my pretty angel,” he murmured again, his thumb now gently rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “You’re such a strong girl, you know that?”

Luna hummed quietly, the sound of his voice wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t have the energy to say much, but she didn’t need to.

Jeonghan knew. He always knew.

He smiled down at her, his gaze warm as he watched her eyes flutter open just a crack, still half-lidded from fatigue. “You’re going to feel better soon. I promise,” he continued softly.

A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and he lifted his hand in front of her face, acting like he grabbed something out of thin air.

Luna, confused, raised an eyebrow as she glanced at his closed fist.

“See this?” Jeonghan said, eyes shifting to his hand as if it held something important.

“What?” Luna asked, her confusion deepening as she watched him curiously.

Jeonghan dramatically acted as if he was throwing something out the window, his arm swinging with a flourish. “I just gave your flu to the guy who lost your luggage,” he said, his face completely serious.

Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief before a small giggle bubbled up from her chest. She gently pushed against his chest, her laughter soft and light. “My luggage isn’t lost, and that man didn’t do anything. He doesn’t deserve to be sick,” she pouted, her lips curving into a playful frown.

Jeonghan sighed in mock amazement, shaking his head. “You are the actual angel between the two of us,” he remarked, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and admiration as he looked at her.

“Whatever,” Luna snuggled closer to him, her eyes closing once more.

Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head and said, “When we get there, I’m going to make sure you rest. I’ll tuck you in, and you won’t have to worry about anything else, okay?”

Luna nodded weakly, her grip tightening slightly around his hand. “Mm… sounds nice,” she whispered, her voice raspy but laced with gratitude.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “Of course it does. I know what my girl likes.” He leaned down, brushing another kiss to the top of her head, lingering for a moment as if that small gesture could transfer all the comfort and care he had for her.

Luna felt her chest warm at his words, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Even in her exhaustion, even with her body feeling like it was weighed down by bricks, she couldn’t help but feel lighter when he spoke to her like this.

Like she was the only thing that mattered.

“Does that mean you’ll spoil me?” she teased softly, the smallest hint of playfulness in her tone despite how tired she was.

Jeonghan grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked down at her. “Oh, absolutely. Whatever you want, Nana-ya. You name it, and it’s yours.” He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, his touch as tender as ever. “I’m at your service, baby.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart swell. “You’re so ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice carrying that familiar affection she always had for him, even when she was exhausted.

“And you love me for it,” Jeonghan replied with a smirk, his tone teasing but undeniably affectionate. He knew how to pull the smallest reactions from her, knew exactly what to say to keep her grounded, to make her feel seen and cherished.

“I do,” Luna whispered, her voice soft but certain, her eyes fluttering closed once more as she relaxed completely into his embrace. She let out a deep, tired breath, her fingers lacing tighter with his as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping her anchored.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened even further, his thumb still brushing over her hand in a slow, comforting rhythm. “My strong girl,” he murmured again, the words barely above a whisper. “You’re doing so, so well.”

The bustling lounge around them, the noise of the airport— it all faded into the background. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how long the flight would be, or how tired and worn out Luna felt.

As long as Jeonghan was there, holding her, whispering words of comfort in her ear, she knew she’d be okay.

Because with him, nothing else mattered.

As they waited for their plane, Jeonghan held her close, his presence as steady and unwavering as ever.

The world could wait.

For now, nothing mattered but her.

Jeonghan stayed glued to Luna’s side from the moment they boarded the plane. He didn’t leave anything to chance. From the way her seatbelt clicked softly around her, to how he made sure she ate the light meal they were served, his eyes were always watching her.

Jeonghan's hand lingered on her shoulder, his thumb grazing the fabric of her sweater as he asked in that quiet, calming voice of his, “Comfortable?”

Luna nodded, the fatigue weighing heavily on her bones. But even though her body cried for sleep, Jeonghan was already one step ahead, adjusting the small blanket over her legs and shoulders, cocooning her in warmth. He tucked it gently under her chin, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Sleep,” he whispered, his tone low and velvety. “I’ll wake you up when we land.”

She mumbled something incoherent in reply, but Jeonghan wasn’t deterred. He adjusted her pillow and gave a soft, satisfied hum when she finally closed her eyes.

Every slight movement on the plane— the ding of the overhead lights, the sound of people shifting in their seats— he shielded her from it all, his focus entirely on her comfort.

Hours passed and the city of Los Angeles glittered beneath them, the sprawling lights blinking like tiny jewels as the plane touched down.

Jeonghan never let go of Luna’s hand, guiding her through the throng of people in the airport, his hand firm and steady on her back. He had seen the earlier signs, the slight tremble in her hands, the way her breath had hitched at the thought of another crowded, overwhelming moment. And he wasn't about to let her go through that again.

They moved swiftly, his arm looped protectively around her waist, his pace matching hers as they wove their way through LAX. Luna leaned into him, her steps faltering only slightly, and though no one said it aloud, Jeonghan was the anchor she clung to.

When they reached the van that would take them to the stadium for rehearsal, Jeonghan cast her a long look, his brow furrowed in silent question. “You okay?” His voice, though soft, was insistent.

Luna nodded, too stubborn to let the exhaustion speak for her. She was tired and sick, but there was no way she would admit it— not when she had been working so hard for this specific performance— it was the reason she was sick in the first place.

The moment they stepped into the stadium, the rest of the members hovered around her. They could see it in her eyes— the flu that clung to her like a shadow— but Luna? She just waved them off with a tired smile, ignoring their concerned stares. Even when they hesitated to let her rehearse, insisting that she should sit this one out, Luna remained firm.

"I’d rather break all my bones than not perform," she said quietly but with enough determination that no one dared challenge her not even Seungcheol who could see the desperation in her eye.

And so, the rehearsal began.

Luna danced with a fierce precision, her every movement sharp and in sync with the music. Despite her voice being raspier from the flu, she hit all the notes, her performance flawless.

To anyone watching, it was as though nothing was wrong.

She was perfect.

But Luna didn’t feel perfect.

She could sense every flaw, every small imperfection that gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The cough that threatened to break through at any moment, the aching in her muscles that slowed her just enough to frustrate her beyond reason. Her mind spiraled as she rehearsed, the frustration coiling tightly in her chest, threatening to break her.

During a break, she paced across the stage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The stress, the pressure, the illness— it was all too much, and she could feel it mounting inside her like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Jeonghan watched her silently from across the stage, his brow furrowed as he took in every minute detail— the way her fingers flexed, the way she bit her lower lip in frustration.

He knew her too well.

He could see it— how close she was to breaking both physically and mentally.

And as they made their way back to the hotel after rehearsal, Jeonghan remained silent, his eyes trained on her, sensing the inner turmoil she tried so hard to hide.

Luna, of course, could feel him watching her.

Jeonghan always knew, always could tell when something was wrong. It annoyed her, but in the same breath, she loved him for it. She loved that he could read her thoughts, even the ones she tried to bury. And she knew, as soon as they walked through that hotel door, that he would corner her about it.

The second they entered her room, silence filled the space. Luna barely made it two steps inside before Jeonghan was there, gently spinning her around to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing against her flushed cheeks, his eyes soft and full of understanding.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice like a gentle caress. Luna blinked up at him, her doe eyes shimmering with the unshed tears that threatened to spill.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened further, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stroked her skin.

He didn’t need to ask. He didn’t need to say anything. He already knew.

Before Luna could say a word, Jeonghan pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight, comforting embrace. The moment his arms enveloped her, the dam inside her broke. She melted against him, her body shaking as the tears finally poured out.

All the pain, all the frustration, all the doubt— she let it all go in that moment, burying her face in his chest as her sobs echoed softly against him.

Jeonghan held her, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. He didn’t shush her, didn’t tell her to stop crying. He just held her, letting her release every bit of the pent-up emotions she had been carrying for far too long.

When her sobs grew quieter, turning into soft sniffles and hiccups, he gently cooed to her, his voice as soft as velvet.

“You’re frustrated, hm? I know, baby. I understand,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to feel like this.”

Luna just cried harder, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she let it all out.

She didn’t need to say anything— Jeonghan understood it all.

“I’m here,” he continued, his voice soothing as he rocked her gently. “I know it’s hard. But you don’t have to be perfect, okay?”

Slowly, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her over to the bed. He sat down, settling her in his lap, his arms still wrapped around her protectively. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing a tear-streaked strand of hair out of her face. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

Luna continued to cry softly, but the tension in her body began to ease as Jeonghan rocked her gently, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. “.You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you for that.”

His words were soft, comforting, and firm. The way he doted on her, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world— it was everything she needed. Everything she didn’t know she needed until now.

“I’ve got you,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice laced with tenderness as he continued to hold her close. “I’ve always got you.”

And at that moment, as Luna clung to him, feeling the weight of her frustrations slowly lift, she knew that no matter how hard things got, Jeonghan would always be there, holding her, understanding her, loving her.

Just like he always had.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by a silence that wasn’t empty but filled with everything unsaid.

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room, punctuated by Luna’s occasional sniffles and quiet hiccups, each one making Jeonghan’s hold on her tighten ever so slightly.

His fingers traced comforting patterns along her back, and every now and then, he hummed softly— a sound as soothing as a lullaby— cooing, “Shh, it’s okay,” whenever she let out a shaky breath. He pressed gentle kisses to the crown of her head, his voice warm, melting the edges of her pain.

After a few minutes, when her crying had slowed and her breathing evened out, Jeonghan pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace they’d built around them.

He didn’t push, didn’t rush her. He simply waited, his thumb grazing her cheekbone in the softest, most patient of motions. His eyes were full of understanding, holding a quiet strength she could lean into.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and she knew. She couldn’t keep anything from him. She never could.

She let out a long sigh, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt for stability, and then the words tumbled out. “I hate being sick,” she began, her voice raw, the vulnerability clear in her tone.

“I know, baby,” Jeonghan murmured, his voice laced with gentle affection. His thumb continued to trace slow circles on her cheek, grounding her as she spoke.

“I hate feeling…weak. I hate that I can’t keep up, that I’m slowing everyone down,” she continued, her words rushing now as if she’d been holding them back for too long. “And I hate feeling like a burden.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, but before he could say anything, Luna pressed on. “You know how much I hate that feeling, right? It reminds me of…of the early years. When people would call me names and isolate all my mistakes, just because I am the only girl.” Her voice cracked at the last part, and Jeonghan’s heart ached for her.

He remembered those days all too well— how Luna had carried the weight of others' expectations and criticisms, how she had tried to be everything to everyone and in the process had nearly crumbled under the pressure.

“I know,” Jeonghan whispered again, his voice laced with a protective tenderness. He shifted slightly so he could cup both sides of her neck with his hands, his thumbs brushing along her jawline. “I know, baby.”

Luna swallowed hard, the memories of those early years washing over her. “And now, I feel like I can’t let that happen again. My pride won’t let me. My ego won’t let me. I have to be perfect, always, and it’s— it’s too much.” She paused, her breathing uneven as she fought to gather her thoughts. “The pressure— it’s crushing me. And sometimes, I just…I feel too sensitive, too soft for all the noise, you know? For everything.”

“I’m not as strong as I pretend myself to be.” Her voice wavered as she said it, and she glanced up at Jeonghan, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty.

Admitting this to anyone else would have been impossible.

But Jeonghan? He was the only person on the planet she could admit that to.

The only person who made her feel safe enough to bare her soul.

Jeonghan listened silently, his hands never leaving her neck, his fingers caressing the soft skin there in gentle, calming strokes. His eyes never left hers, and in that moment, Luna knew— he wasn’t judging her, wasn’t frustrated with her. He was just there, solid and steady, giving her all the time she needed.

He took a few seconds after she finished, gathering his thoughts, his eyes never wavering from hers. And then, with a tenderness that made Luna’s heart ache, he spoke. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know that?” His voice was soft, yet firm— an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “No one is perfect. Not me, not you, not anyone. And that’s okay.”

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze deep and thoughtful. “I don’t love you because you’re perfect, Jiyeon. I love you because you’re you. Unapologetically you. The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly— all of it.”

Luna’s lip trembled, but Jeonghan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re more than enough, baby. You always have been. I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are, right here, right now.”

Luna opened her mouth to protest, but Jeonghan cut her off, his voice gentle but insistent. “No, listen to me. Stop thinking like that. You’re not a burden. You never were.” His fingers slipped through her hair, his touch soft as he cradled her head in his hands. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much, and yet you’re still standing, still shining.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Luna mumbled, her voice thick with doubt as tears slowly fell out of her eyes.

Jeonghan shook his head, smiling at her with that knowing look as he wiped the tears away. “That’s because you don’t see yourself the way I do.” He tapped her nose lightly, making her blink in surprise. “I see someone who’s been fighting her whole life, someone who’s never backed down, even when things were hard.”

“But I—” Luna tried again, but Jeonghan cut her off with a teasing smirk.

“Ah, ah, no buts,” he teased, his voice a playful mix of softness and scolding. “You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. But don’t for one-second think that makes you less amazing. You’re not supposed to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”

Luna blinked up at him, her heart swelling at his words. “But what if I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Jeonghan interrupted his tone light, yet filled with understanding. “Keep going? You’ve been keeping up just fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“But what if I don’t?” she whispered, her eyes filled with doubt.

Jeonghan’s smile softened, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Then you lean on me. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we do for each other. Plus you have twelve more people out there who are more than willing to be your support— you can have your pick.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he whispered against her skin, “You’re not alone, Nana-ya. Not now, not ever.”

Luna didn’t know how she’d survived this long.

For years, it had felt like she was running on fumes, each step forward met with resistance from her own mind, her own doubts. But now, as she lay in Jeonghan’s arms, her head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, she understood.

She was looking at one of the reasons why.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Every smile, every whispered reassurance, every small touch had kept her grounded when she felt like she was unraveling.

Jeonghan made her feel as though the world was spinning just for her like nothing else mattered but the two of them in this moment.

How easily he could make her feel seen, cherished, and loved— it was terrifying how much she was still falling for him, and yet, she couldn’t help it.

The deeper she fell, the safer she felt, as if his love was a cushion that would catch her no matter what.

Luna felt him press another kiss to her forehead, and before she could protest, he shifted slightly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. Her fingers slipped from his chest and lazily found his hand, playing with his long fingers as he allowed her to, his grip soft but ever-present.

Luna watched him silently, her gaze tracing the familiar contours of his face— the delicate slope of his nose, the gentle arch of his brow, the way his lips moved slightly as he prepared to speak into the phone.

He glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched her play with his fingers, but then his attention shifted back to the call. “Hey, hyung,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth and composed, though there was a hint of urgency beneath his words.

Luna’s heart swelled at the sound— it was her favorite sound in the world, his voice. So full of warmth, so full of love.

“Yeah, Jiyeonie’s not feeling well… No, no, she’s okay, but I need you to pick up some things.” There was a brief pause as he listened, his eyes flicking down to Luna again as he continued to let her fidget with his hand. “Some medicine for the flu… Yeah, and get some chamomile tea too. It’s her favorite.” His smile widened slightly as he said that, knowing how much comfort it would bring her.

Luna looked up at him as he spoke, her mind swimming in the soft cadence of his voice. She remembered what he had said earlier, about seeing herself the way he saw her. That thought stayed with her, echoing in her mind like a gentle hum.

She wanted to know— desperately— what it would be like to love herself the way Jeonghan did. To see herself not as a burden, but as someone worthy of care, worthy of love, for all the good and bad, the ugly and the pretty. Because no one had ever loved her like he did.

“Yeah, and one more thing,” Jeonghan’s voice brought her back to the present. “Can you grab her food for dinner on the way, too? The Korean restaurant… the place she loves here— yeah, the one in Koreatown. Thanks, hyung. I owe you.” He ended the call with his manager, setting the phone down and turning back to her.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he took in the way she looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder and love.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like a promise, a vow he intended to keep.

And he did.

The next hour passed in a blur of warmth and gentle care.

When the doorbell rang, Luna let out a soft whine as Jeonghan carefully untangled himself from her. He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back, angel. Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his tone playful yet filled with affection.

True to his word, Jeonghan returned moments later with two bags in hand. One was filled with medicine—painkillers, cold medicine, and everything else she needed to combat the flu. The other was heavier, the delicious aroma of her favorite takeout filling the room as he set it on the table. He helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her as he opened the containers.

“Come on, you need to eat,” he coaxed gently, handing her a set of chopsticks.

Luna smiled gratefully, the smell of the food making her realize just how hungry she still was, despite feeling sick. They ate in comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of their natural conversation punctuated by the clink of chopsticks and soft laughter.

As they finished the meal, Jeonghan moved to the small kitchenette in the hotel room and began preparing her favorite chamomile tea. Luna watched him from the bed, her body sinking deeper into the plush comforter. Even the simple act of him boiling water and steeping the tea felt like an expression of love— like everything he did was a way of showing how much he cared for her.

He returned to her side with the steaming mug, blowing on it slightly before handing it to her. “Here, this will help your throat.”

Luna took the mug from him, the warmth seeping into her hands as she took a slow sip. The tea was soothing, the familiar floral notes calming her from the inside out.

Jeonghan then reached for the medicine he’d asked for, placing the pills into her hand and watching carefully as she swallowed them.

“Good job, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan praised her, knowing how much she hated drinking medicines.

After she had finished, he set an alarm on his phone for her next dose, determined to make sure she stayed on track with her medication.

“You’re really babying me,” Luna teased, her voice still a little raspy from the congestion, but there was a smile in her tone.

Jeonghan shrugged, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he responded, “What can I say? You’re my favorite person to take care of.”

Luna felt her heart flutter at his words, the warmth spreading through her chest. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Jeonghan heard it loud and clear.

“No,” he corrected, leaning in to press his lips against her forehead once more. “I’m the lucky one.”

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, spilling in through the massive hotel windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Outside, the night sky was clear, and the moon hung like a silent guardian over the city below, casting an ethereal light across the room. Its glow painted the walls in silver, illuminating the quiet space where Luna and Jeonghan lay wrapped in each other’s arms.

Luna was curled into Jeonghan’s side, her head nestled against his chest, her body comfortably molded to his. Their legs tangled together under the covers, their shared warmth a cocoon that separated them from the world outside.

Jeonghan's hand rested on her back, his fingers moving in slow, gentle circles, the repetitive motion soothing her in a way only he could. With his free hand, Luna absentmindedly played with his fingers, her fingertips tracing the lines of his palm, their silent rhythm in sync, matching the slow rise and fall of their breathing.

The moonlight caught Luna’s eye, and from her place against Jeonghan, she stared out at it through the window, the silvery glow making the world seem calm and still. She watched as the moon floated in the vast expanse of the night sky, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and yet… so familiar. There was a quiet comfort in its light, a reminder of home, of memories that always seemed to resurface on nights like these.

Jeonghan noticed the shift in her attention. He felt the way her body relaxed even more against him, her breathing becoming deeper as her gaze remained fixated on the night outside. He followed her line of sight, but his focus quickly returned to her.

As Luna continued to gaze at the moon, Jeonghan found himself lost in a quiet, ironic admiration.

Here she was, completely mesmerized by the pale, glowing orb in the sky— and yet, to him, the real moon lay beside him, nestled in his arms.

Luna.

He watched the way her brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, their deep, warm color now reflecting the cool, silver light. Her expression was soft, almost dreamlike as if the light had cast a spell on her.

But Jeonghan knew better— it was she who had cast the spell on him.

He watched the way her brown doe eyes reflected the moonlight made them sparkle, turning her soft, innocent gaze into something more enchanting, almost siren-like, as though she were lost in thought, drawn into the beauty of the sky. Her pale porcelain skin, smooth and delicate, glowed under the moon’s light, and Jeonghan couldn't help but smile softly at the sight.

He took in every detail of her, from the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed to the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose— something only visible up close, and he always found them endearing, a hidden piece of her beauty that not everyone got to see.

But he did.

He noticed everything.

The way her lips parted slightly as she lost herself in thought, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulder, catching the light in glittering strands.

Jeonghan admired her just as she admired the moon, realizing that to him, Luna was just as captivating— if not more so.

It was poetic, really, this silent moment between them.

As she gazed at the moon in the sky, Jeonghan found himself gazing at the moon in his arms.

Jeonghan admired her in silence, his heart swelling with affection. There was something so serene about Luna in moments like these, something that took his breath away every time.

She was beautiful in ways she didn’t even realize— imperfections that made her perfect to him.

As he continued to trace slow circles on her back, he vowed silently that he’d show her. He’ll make her see how perfect she is. How she’s so much more than she thinks.

The silence between them was comfortable, the quiet hum of the city outside a distant sound they barely noticed. Then, breaking the stillness, Luna’s soft voice filled the air, her eyes never leaving the moon.

"My mom loves the moon," she said quietly, her voice almost wistful.

Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the mention of her mother. He reached up with his free hand and gently brushed a stray hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. "I know she does," he murmured in response, his voice low and gentle. "You told me before."

A small smile tugged at Luna’s lips, still staring up at the moon as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "She said if she wasn’t a ballerina, she would’ve been an astronaut," Luna giggled softly, a sound that made Jeonghan’s smile widen.

He loved it when she talked about her family— her face always lit up with a kind of soft nostalgia. Jeonghan listened, his hand continuing to move in gentle patterns on her skin, offering her the quiet comfort she needed.

"She used to tell me," Luna continued, her voice light with memory, "that she would talk to the moon and make wishes to it."

Jeonghan smiled at that, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

Luna nodded, the movement subtle as her head remained resting on his chest. “I remember telling her she sounded crazy,” she chuckled, her laughter warm and full of affection.

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with playful mischief, and before Luna could react, he poked her side, his fingers finding her waist. "No, you didn’t," he teased, his voice playful.

Luna squealed, a burst of laughter escaping her as she squirmed slightly, turning to pout up at him. Her lips jutted out in an adorable frown as she met his teasing smile. "I did!" she insisted, her voice filled with mock indignation.

Jeonghan grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling as he admired the way her cheeks flushed, her pout softening into a smile. He was always so easily captivated by her— by the smallest details, the little quirks she didn’t even know she had.

Luna shifted her gaze back to the moon, her voice quieting as she spoke again. “She loved it so much, she named me after it.” Her words were almost whispered, and there was a reverence in her tone, as if the name held all the weight of her mother’s love.

Jeonghan’s chest tightened with affection. His eyes drifted between her and the moon outside, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips.

It was fitting, he thought, that Luna was named after the moon.

Just like the celestial body that lit up the darkest nights, she illuminated every part of his life, even the pieces he didn’t know needed light.

“Did you know,” Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft, “that the moon isn’t perfectly round?”

Luna raised an eyebrow at his sudden trivia, curiosity and amusement flickering in her eyes as she glanced up at him. “I did know that, nerd,” she teased, her tone playful as her lips curved into a smile.

Jeonghan chuckled, his playful side emerging as he stuck out his tongue and ruffled her hair. “If you knew that, then that makes you a nerd too, nerd.”

Luna let out a soft whine, quickly removing his hand from her head— not because she cared about him messing up her hair, but because she didn’t want to let go of his hand. She hated losing that connection, even for a second.

Jeonghan chuckled again, his tone softening as he cooed gently, “Okay, alright, I’m here.” He wrapped his arms more securely around her, pulling her even closer to him, and she let out a content sigh, her body relaxing once more into his embrace.

After a beat, Luna broke the silence, her voice soft but curious, “What was your point?”

Jeonghan hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. He cupped her face, the warmth of his palm grounding her. “The moon is full of imperfections,” he said, his voice tender, almost reverent.

Luna softened at his words, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

He was trying to prove his point, his way of telling her she was enough, even with her insecurities and doubts.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She felt her chest tighten, but not in the panicked way it had at the airport. This pounding sensation was different. It was calm, steady, and tethered to him. She could feel her heart beating in sync with his, the rhythm of their shared breaths filling the space between them.

Jeonghan’s voice drew her back to the moment. “But people like your mom,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, “they still talk to it, still look for it when they can’t find it. And they still love it... and it still shines, regardless.”

Her eyes welled up with tears again, her heart aching at how deeply she loved him in that moment. No one had ever made her feel so seen, so deeply understood. The way he cherished her, imperfections and all, made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

Jeonghan's hand gently wiped away a tear before it could fall, his expression soft but serious. “You’re no different, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “I still talk to you, I still look for you when I can’t find you. And I still love you… and you still shine, regardless.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart clenched at his words, and she could feel that familiar pounding again, not the anxious panic from before, but something far more peaceful— like her heart was trying to tell her that everything was okay.

The way his heart beat in time with hers soothed her, anchoring her. The tears slipped freely now, no longer held back by the dam she’d built around her emotions.

Jeonghan's expression shifted as he noticed her tears, his lips curling into a soft smile as he tried to lighten the mood. “But…” he said, drawing out the word as if he was about to reveal something serious.

Luna blinked up at him, her eyes still glassy, wondering where he was going. He smirked playfully. “One thing you won’t have in common with the moon is… being lonely.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to follow his train of thought. Before she could ask, he leaned in, his voice low but teasing, “You have me, my moon.”

That was it.

The floodgates opened again, but this time she chuckled through her tears, pushing him playfully. “You’re a nerd,” she whined, sniffling, “and a sap.”

Jeonghan laughed at that, his whole face lighting up with amusement. He reached out and wiped her face gently, his fingers brushing away the stray tears. “Aww, my little crybaby,” he teased her in baby talk, cooing at her like he was speaking to a child. “C’mon, no more tears, okay?”

Luna pouted, swatting at his hand, “Stop making me cry then!” Her voice wavered, a mix of frustration and affection, but even as she said it, she couldn’t help but smile.

Jeonghan grinned, unbothered by her playful complaint. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my love too overwhelming for you?” He teased, laughing softly as she glared at him half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her voice. Instead, she let herself melt into him again, feeling safe, loved, and seen.

Without warning, his fingers brushed her lips, the pad of his thumb grazing the soft curve of her mouth. Her breath hitched slightly at the unexpected tenderness of the touch, her pulse quickening.

The sensation was gentle, yet electrifying, as if his touch alone sends sparks dancing across. He traced the outline of her bottom lip slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing its shape.

Luna's heart pounded, and she felt the world narrow to just the two of them at that moment. Jeonghan's fingers moved with an almost featherlight touch, teasing yet reverent. His eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes, and without a word, he began leaning closer, his breath mingling with hers.

Just as his lips were about to capture hers, Luna ducked her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Jeonghan paused, clearly confused, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"You seem to forget," Luna mumbled against his skin, her voice muffled, "that I'm sick."

Jeonghan blinked, his large hand instinctively finding its place at the nape of her neck. He gently pulled her back, cupping her face so she had no choice but to look at him again. "No, I didn't forget," he replied, his tone laced with quiet confidence as he leaned in once more.

But Luna swerved again, her hand shooting up to block him as she glared at him, eyes firm but still soft. "Han! You're gonna get sick," she scolded, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern.

Jeonghan's brow quirked upward in challenge, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. "Okay... and?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly unconcerned.

Luna sighed, knowing this was a battle she was likely going to lose, but she pressed on. "Cheollie is gonna kill us both if we both end up sick— you know how he worries."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, clearly unimpressed by the argument. "It's worth the risk," he murmured, leaning in again to kiss her, but Luna pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him just short.

She was on her back now, and Jeonghan was sitting up over her, his arm braced on one side of her head, the other hand gripping hers firmly, yet gently. His touch was grounding, but there was a playfulness in his movements, a slow, deliberate tension in the way he held her still, his eyes never leaving hers.

"There's no guarantee I'll catch it, Nana-ya," he said softly, his voice low, the teasing lilt clear.

Luna bit her lip, shaking her head as her fingers curled against his chest. "Hannie— I can guarantee a hundred percent you'll catch it. It's already a risk that we're breathing the same air right now." Her eyes glinted with a mix of playfulness and worry as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer despite herself.

Jeonghan pouted dramatically, his expression boyish and unconvincing. "What makes you say that?" he asked, raising his brow as though daring her to argue further.

"Because you're you, Yoon Jeonghan," Luna retorted, her voice light, teasing. "You might have a weaker immune system than me." Her smile was cheeky, but her gaze was tender.

Jeonghan's jaw dropped in mock offense, his eyes narrowing as if deeply insulted.

"Says the girl who's already sick!" he shot back, his voice playfully accusatory.

"Exactly!" Luna exclaimed, triumphant. "Which is why you're gonna be a good boy and move to your side of the bed and leave the kisses to a minimum until I get bett–”

Her sentence was cut off abruptly as Jeonghan, with a swift and determined motion, cupped her neck with one hand and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for protest. The warmth of his mouth on hers was intoxicating, the softness of his lips moving with an easy confidence that made her head spin.

Luna's defenses crumbled instantly. Her hands that had been pushing him away moments ago now gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she melted into him.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, Jeonghan's lips moving against hers with a rhythm that left her breathless. He smiled against her mouth, his smirk felt more than seen, and it sent a thrill down her spine.

The sensation of his lips was dizzying, a perfect blend of softness and firmness, a touch that was both teasing and sure. It was like he was savoring the moment, dragging it out, knowing he had won this small victory.

Every movement, every shift of his mouth against hers felt like a carefully calculated move, designed to make her give in, and she was powerless to resist.

When they finally pulled away, Luna was speechless, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her lips tingled, the remnants of the kiss lingering like a warm haze.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, a smug grin tugging at his lips, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Well," he began, his tone teasing and oh-so-condescending, "looks like someone didn't mind that too much." He winked at her, his voice dropping into a sing-song tone as he added in baby talk, "Aww, is my sick little Jiyeonie all flustered now?"

Luna gaped at him, still trying to recover, before shoving him playfully. "You're the worst," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real venom.

She couldn't deny it— he had won, and they both knew it.

Luna shook her head at Jeonghan’s smug expression, her chest still fluttering from the lingering kiss. “You’re absolutely insufferable, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed any irritation she tried to muster.

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Mmm, but you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

She huffed, half-heartedly shoving him again, but this time her hand stayed on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I never said that,” she replied, her voice soft, and playful, though the affection in her eyes was impossible to hide.

“Didn’t need to.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the teasing edge softening into something tender as he shifted slightly, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist. “It’s written all over your face, Jiyeonie.”

Luna felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, her usual quick wit failing her as she looked up at him. “Shut up,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest to avoid the intensity of his stare, though she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her.

Jeonghan hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on her back. “Mmm, whatever you want,” he whispered, his voice low and lazy now as if the teasing energy from before had melted into something softer, more intimate.

The conversation slowed, their words becoming fewer and farther between as they lay together, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence. Their voices were no more than whispers in the quiet of the night, the sound of their breaths mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside.

“We still haven’t told the guys about us… been too busy,” Luna mumbled sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy as her head rested comfortably against Jeonghan’s chest.

Jeonghan smiled faintly, his fingers still lazily tracing over her skin. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lull in the quiet room.

“Hmm,” Luna hummed, her arms tightening slightly around him. “I don’t want you getting sick…”

Jeonghan’s lips brushed her forehead again, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Nothing matters but you, Jiyeonie.”

There was something about the way Jeonghan said it— soft, sure as if it was the simplest truth in the world. The tenderness of the moment wrapped around them like a blanket, warm and safe, and Luna’s heart swelled in response.

“Don’t say that because I could say the same thing about you,” Luna whispered it out.

The words hung in the air, delicate and true, as the weight of the day began to pull them both under.

Jeonghan’s hand brushed through her hair, the same tender care present in every touch, every glance. It was the way he held her when the world became too much, the way he listened without needing words. It was the sweet nothings they exchanged, the unspoken promises, the quiet love that bloomed in the spaces between their conversations.

Their breathing fell into sync, the quiet rhythm of their bodies melding together in the shared silence. Jeonghan’s hand slowly stilled on her back, his thumb brushing against her side in slow, sleepy strokes. Luna’s eyelids fluttered, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness, her body relaxing fully into his embrace.

The warmth of Jeonghan’s presence, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, grounded her as her breathing slowed, her body sinking deeper into the bed. Luna’s last thought before sleep took her was the gentle comfort of his arms around her, the soft press of his lips on her hair, and the way his fingers felt like home as they held her close.

The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a blanket, and Luna knew— no matter how hard things got, no matter how overwhelming the world outside could be, here, with him, she would always be safe.

She would always be loved.

And in the quiet of that truth, she let herself finally surrender to sleep, knowing that in this moment, nothing else mattered but them.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

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soob1nslut · 2 months ago

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⌗ ch.soobin hcs

cw nsfw, fingering, breath play(!!), bondage & loots of kisses >ᴗ<

GENDER NEUTRAL!!

these are based on either my personal experiences/preferences ₊ ⊹

⌇ praise kink

ohh my god. soobins praise kink would be INSAANEE. nothing turns him on the way a "good boy" does. even during the day if someone pats his head and tells him hes doing well, he gets hard and gets all flustered. especially from you. god, nothing gets him weaker than you telling him how cute and pretty he is and how good he's making you feel and your pretty boy loves to beg for you, saying things like "please tell me im doing well" or "call me __" and you get to tease him by just giggling while he begs you, rocking his hips and whining over and over again. soobin also loves to call you 'cute', saving this word for when you're writhing and cumming underneath him, whispering into your ear how cute you sound and how cute you look.

⌇ foreplay/aftercare

soobin absolutely loves foreplay. he will finger you until your mind goes blank and you're begging him to fuck you. he loves when you clench down on him, your body arching into his chest as he rests above you, lips on your neck. he presses against your sensitive spots and giggles at how your body twitches and shudders at that. soobin also loves when you go down on him. you take his whole length in your mouth and he cant hold back his desperate whimpers. he refuses to grab your hair, not wanting to hurt you, so you have to guide his hands to your head. he subconsciously ends up pushing your head down, but gently enough as not to force himself inside your mouth. what a good boy!! he also spends a lot of time on your chest, teasing your nipples till you push him down your body. soobin's great at giving you head. he goes at it like a man starved. the warmth of his mouth combined with sometimes his fingers deep in you drives you absolutely insane, you end up cumming so much just during foreplay. during aftercare, soobin cleans up for you two, making sure you don't have to move a muscle. he cleans you up, dresses you, and pulls you into his arms. he kisses you softly on your cheeks and makes sure you fall asleep. he stays with you all throughout the night even if he has somewhere to be the next morning, and he makes sure he'll only fuck you days that he has time to spend the night.

⌇ breath play psa -- unless i was wrong, which then u are ofc able to correct me (but unfortunately i will not give a shit im so sorry i cant lie to you this is the least of my priorities), choking/strangulation is a form of breath play as breath play is restricting airflow of ur partner .. ?? i wasnt down to write something like he puts a fucking plastic bag over ur head. sorry my bdsm skills are not top tier. i assume most everyone who writes hcs is not well versed in the world of bdsm. unless im wrong and i should've deep dived into the webMD page. i did take my bdsm test though!

soobin and breath playyy. i struggle with deciding which would be better, you choking him or him choking you. im sure he would be hesitant if you proposed the idea at first, but you soon learn how much he loves it. his body hovering above yours, his hips rocking back and forth as his hands tighten slowly around your neck. he'd be losing his breath faster than you would. as his hands clenched harder, he'd quicken his pace, fucking you till you scratched against his hands. he'd kiss you softly, nuzzling his face into your neck, admiring the red marks he left on your skin. on the contrary, soobin asks if you want to try it with him. getting on top of him was natural to you, and it seems like his neck was made to fit your hands. he looked so perfect; his neck craning back into the pillow while his hands grip onto your hips, his desperate pleas for more and more filling the room. he didn't tell you to stop till he started crying, tears trailing down his cheeks. he'd pull you into his arms, kissing you while you rubbed his neck.

⌇ bondage

picture him sitting underneath you, hands behind his back, being unable to touch your perfect body as you went down on him. he flinched as your lips pressed a kiss against him, his cock twitching in anticipation. he was nervous but so so so excited as you guys had never tried bondage before. as you sucked him off, his body jolted with pleasure. he struggled against the ropes, desperate to feel you in his hands. but alas, it was to no use -- you had tied him tightly and all he could do was take it like the good boy he was. when you finally untied him, the ropes had left red puffy marks on his wrists. you kissed the skin where he had been tied. when you asked soobin to tie you up, he awkwardly fumbled around with the ropes until deciding he'd just tie your hands together at the front. he wanted to try something. he slid his cock in between your hands, the friction of your hands together creating such a perfect hole for him to fuck. it was an insane sight but seeing him so hot and heavy made you so so horny.

⌇ kissing

soobin and his love for kissing. all he wants to do is kiss you. every chance he can. he loves tongue to tongue, especially making sure you taste him as best you can. even when you're out of breath and gasping for air, soobin's lips don't ever leave your body. he kisses down your waist, your inner thighs, your ass, the nape of your neck, down the curve of your back, and your hips. he worships every inch of you and wants to make that clear. every night before you two fall asleep, he makes sure to kiss you a few times to ensure he can properly sleep through the night. he loooves when you kiss his dimple ૮₍ ´ ꒳ ` ₎ა

thank you for reaaading!! lmk if you have any you have requests for more ^_^ loove.. moA っ>ㅅーっ

#txt hard thoughts #txt imagines #soobin hard thoughts #soobin #choi soobin #soobin smut #soobin hcs #soobin hard hours #txt smut #needthat #txt x reader #gender neutral #gender neutral mc #txt hard hours

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sleepy-grav3 · 2 months ago

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The End of Legacies

DCxDP

A/n: Random idea that passed through my mind. It's not good in my opinion, but only because I wanted it to be more dramatic but didn't have the motivation to.

Summary: Danny made Bruce keep his no-killing rule until he's done preparing for Joker's ghost. The day he was ready finally came.

Tw: Murder, swears, canonical death and torture, maybe more.

Ghost King Danny; Danny and Bruce think of each other as brothers; Danny also has an adoption habit; Danny is also Hourglass (Clockwork's apprentice)

Bruce loves his kids. And The Joker is the biggest risk to them. The monster was the reason for their fragile bond.

He's tried to kill him before. He's revived him before. He's treated him before.

He hates it. And he hates that he can't tell his children why at the risk of prolonging this horrendous creature that was no longer human.

And he'd known this would happen. He's been told it long ago by a ghost who had made him swear that the Joker will live until he gives the word.

It's been 2 decades since then and Bruce almost wishes that he was selfish enough to risk the multi-verse for the sake of his children's peace of mind and even soul.

Bruce knew that Jason's Pit Rage wouldn't be fully gone until he killed the Joker. That's what Revenants need to live a peaceful undead life.

Bruce knew that Dick and Damian would never trust him unless he broke his rule for the family. Until then, Batman was above them in his list of priorities. He hates that it's somewhat true.

Bruce knew that none of them would ever feel even the slightest bit safe with that fucking thing alive.

But he couldn't end it. Not yet.

And he remembered that day where his rule became an obligation and not a personal mercy.

It was a random day. Gray sky, just a bit darker than usual. Batman was out as normal, still at the start of his nightly career, when a light came towards him. He recognized that light.

Phantom.

He went to WE's rooftop and stood there, waiting for Phantom. It wasn't long until the half-ghost joined him.

"Phantom. What are you doing here?"

If it were any other hero, he'd be more assertive, more territorial. But this was Phantom. A 17 year old boy who acted as a diplomat due to his kingly status and was planning on going to college rather than spend his time as a vigilante.

He was a kid and he knew better than to mess with Gotham without insider knowledge and experience.

Phantom gave a smile that came off more as a grimace. It made Batman tense.

"I don't come to you as Phantom, but as Hourglass, the apprentice of the Master of Time. And I must have you swear an oath to follow your rule until the time comes."

"Can you expand on that?"

Pha- Hourglass nodded.

"As of now, an actual joke. As of later, a monster unnamed. The Joker will grow to become so malicious that I as King must make preparations for his arrival to the Realms. Ending him now will not stop the travesties from occurring. Waiting will at least allow for all of Gotham to renew."

Danny pursed his lips.

"I could give you the prophecy and the only warning I am allowed to give if you wish. But know this, Detective. In hearing, you will become Odysseus, Cassandra, and Zeus. Only later will you understand. Do you still wish for me to relay it?"

[ Bruce remembered this moment. He remembered his answer and how much pain it brought upon realization. He wished he refused. He wished he wasn't so prideful to think that he could've prevented it all from happening. ]

"Yes."

Hourglass nodded.

"The first will oversee."

Dick was the first Robin. He was the only one who made it but wasn't unscathed. He regretted allowing Robin to be a curse.

"The second shall fall."

Jason was the second Robin and died because of it.

"The third shall become the first and the who knows will be the next."

Tim was the third Robin. He was the first to survive Joker's torture from the family's victims. Bruce didn't realize that Tim knew he'd be the next Joker until he had an intense relapse where his contingencies for JJ came to light.

"The fourth shall fall."

Steph was the fourth Robin. She had died, but not by The Joker's hands.

"The fifth shall mourn and chase."

Tim was technically also the fifth when he returned. He lost so many people in such a short amount of time before going on a chase after Bruce.

"The honorary sixth will rule until the day gains the sun."

Duke was the honorary sixth along with many others through the We Are Robin movement.

"The seventh bathed in blood."

Damian was the seventh Robin. He's his biological son from an assassin family. He's plagued by his mother's side of his family, chased after and forever fearing the end of normalcy.

"The eighth shall meet the stars that burn and freeze."

Jarro was technically the eighth Robin. He had seen many things out in space and Bruce knows that he didn't share it all when he visits.

Hourglass finished off and Danny looked at him with sadness in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"None of it will be your fault. Let me handle things here. He's my responsibility."

Danny nodded and then smiled softly.

"On another note. When you see the girl, come visit me. You'll know which one later on."

Bruce would visit Danny, especially on the days the realization sank in and all was done.

Danny had made a life since then. He remains a last resort for the Justice League, a counselor of the dead side of things, the official King of the Realms, and a father of 3 children: Billy Batson, Ace, and Kon.

Bruce considers him a brother due to their close enough age, ignoring the 8 year gap. So he was also an uncle and a son. He was oh so thankful to be privy to Alfred's immortality due to an apparent adventure that nobody knew about because no time had passed while he was on it.

But he still waited for the day Danny would visit. The day he could introduce him to his children as their uncle. To have a full family dinner. To have the nightmare end.

It yet another random day that Phantom had come to him. He was in his office in the manor, doing some paperwork for WE for Tim due to him having an intense migraine.

It was out of nowhere when the ghost literally tumbled in. He flew through the door but flew back in the room during Bruce's moment of shock.

"I finished! The preparations for the bastard is done!"

Bruce rapidly blinked, trying to process it. He could hardly believe it. This wasn't some sick joke, Danny would never do that to him. He wasn't mind controlled either, his eyes would give it away no matter what method was used.

Bruce couldn't hold back the tears or the loud sobs. Danny detransformed and hugged him tightly, letting Bruce cry his heart out on Danny's chest as he remained in his seat.

Alfred came to check on them and upon seeing Danny, he sheds a few tears.

That night, Bruce had gathered everyone. They were shocked to see Raven, Supernova (Kon), Captain Marvel, and Phantom there.

"What threat is there that we need even Captain Marvel and Phantom's assistance, Father?"

"And why isn't this a League meeting? I mean sure, the bats and birds are definitely better than them, but still." Steph questioned.

"I'd also like to know that." Helena and Jason both huffed/scoffed.

Bruce took a breath.

"Tonight, there will be another breakout. However, this one will be different. Tonight, The Joker will die by my hands."

"WHOA!"

"WHAT?!"

"BRUCE?????"

"Holy shit-"

"He's a clone-"

"Imposter!"

The guests only glanced at each other before focusing back on the chaos. Captain Marvel was the one to silence them by stepping forward with a raised hand.

"So, you guys must all be confused. Before we explain, I'll have you all know that Batman is the real Batman. None of us have been influence by anything either. Phantom?"

"Right." Phantom flew over to sit on Batman's shoulder, there was no weight for him to be concerned about Batman complaining to him later. "20 years ago, I came to Batman and told him that the Joker would become so evil that I had to make preparations for his death. And until then, The Joker shouldn't be killed. Otherwise, he'd reek terror upon the multi-verse."

Phantom smiled sympathetically down at Batman.

"I'm sure he hasn't told any of you this to not have you pressure me into hurrying what was already being hurried, in which, would only prolong the time to Joker's End. Please don't blame Bruce and understand that he truly does love you all and suffered knowing that if he killed or irreversibly harmed the rogue early, you would all still suffer the same fates but without any kind of avenging. In addition to that, many people would've not had the opportunity to be redeemed, created, and more."

Silence. The cave was silent at what Phantom had admitted. Jason was ready to just leave, Dick was ready to explode with betrayal, Babs was in shock, Tim and Damian understood fully, Cass also understood but was still hurt, Helena muttered an 'of course he did', and Duke was more than heartbroken.

Phantom eventually sighed and got off of Bruce's shoulder.

"We have 15 minutes until the breakout happens. Batman?"

Plans were made that night.

The night that Phantom, Captain Marvel, Raven, and Supernova had gathered in Gotham to handle Joker's ghost on the mortal Realm. On the other side, Phantasm (Dani), Wraith (Dan), Ace, Zatanna, and Constantine waited for the monster to come and dealt with him accordingly.

The Joker went out with a blast by Batman's hands, just like he wanted.

But he will not know eternity in peace. He will be tortured by the victims he killed and the ones he didn't for all of time until they got bored of him. And on that day, Danny will end him forever.

This is the end of The Joker. He will not rise again.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #the joker isn't human anymore #he's an acclimation of curses and malicious energy #people fear him so much that his ghost will be on par with an Ancient #danny made bruce keep his rule because Joker will be too strong otherwise #bruce loves his kids #ace is a girl joker tortured and bruce had stayed with her until she died #ace is a canonical character search her up #Danny adopts billy ace and kon

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 11 months ago

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Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).

So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅

CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!

Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!

Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—

Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Cyno

The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.

And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.

Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.

"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.

At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)

Tighnari

Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.

That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.

He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.

"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.

He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.

Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)

Kaveh

This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.

Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D

Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.

And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.

"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—

Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D

Al-haitham

The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.

What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.

You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.

"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.

You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.

Zhongli

Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.

Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.

The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.

"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.

Baizhu

With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.

He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.

Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.

"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.

Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.

He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.

Gaming

HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!

Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!

You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?

He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.

"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.

He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.

Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

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morganas-pendragons · 5 months ago

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ease | celebrimbor

honest to god, I got this concept in the shower and it would not leave me alone. the prompt was found in the depths of the celebrimbor x reader tag (disclaimer: I am not a Tolkien reader, but I did grow up watching the movies and have done some research into the Silmarillion as I've been watching ROP) and this was born.

I've just found out some of the fates of these characters and I kid you not... I have a full fledged idea for a Celebrimbor/OC fic if my brain keeps this up

set during s2 of ROP, light spoilers ahead

prompt is here / this reader is a half-elven female who is gifted with magic. like I said, I am new to writing for this verse, so please be gentle.

***

You don't remember much about how you ended up in Middle Earth. There are glimpses, sweet fragments of memories that surface every now and again, but that is simply all they are. Glimpses of a time that has long come and gone.

Glimpses of who you were gone with it, like the receding tides of the ocean drifting further and further away.

The one thing you do remember with astounding clarity is your arrival to Eregion. You remember the front gates and how tired you were, and more importantly, you remember Celebrimbor. His complete and utter astonishment at your arrival was puzzling.

You didn't figure out why until later.

"Forgive me, but my healer tells me you have difficulties with remembering where you came from," He's standing in front of you where you sit in the healer's chambers of Eregion. You're surprised that they even let you in. Maybe he took pity on you. "Your injuries are minimal given how long he believes you were out in such conditions. Given your physical attributes, I would say you are at least Elvish. That would explain some of this. Do you remember your name?"

You didn't. The only things you had to remind you of who you were was the cloak around your shoulders and the circlet in your hair. A fine thing, crafted from what Celebrimbor later told you was pure silver.

"No...." You shake your head and wrap your arms tightly around yourself. He can't help but soften. You seem very lost. Celebrimbor is not one to take in lost souls, but there is something about you that draws in rapt fascination, and he is not willing to turn you away.

"You are no threat upon us. Now come. Let me introduce you to the great kingdom of the Elven smiths."

He extended his arm to you hesitantly. You found yourself taking it, staring up at him through a curious gaze as he dove into the histories of Eregion.

Weeks passed. You noticed the longer you were present in Eregion and in the forges that Celebrimbor was very particular about who was allowed to remain in his presence for long. There were his smiths, and his servants, but there were very few who were truly allowed to know him on a more intimate and vulnerable level.

You found yourself wondering why.

On a quieter day in Eregion's forges, you venture out of your room in search of Celebrimbor. Most of the staff is familiar with your presence by now. You've heard the whispers. They wonder how a forsaken Elf has managed to find her way into their King's good graces after such a short amount of time.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd arrive. Come. I have something to show you." Celebrimbor greeted. You followed him around the edge of the forge to a table in the center of the room where a familiar silver circlet sat. Your eyes widened. You had been wondering where it went. "I was given enough moonstone from a recent discovery to restore your circlet and add a singular gem to the center. What do you think?"

Again the eyes and ears are drawn to the pair of you. You can feel their questions burning through the air: Why her? Why is she in his good graces? What does a forsaken elf have to give to the Lord of Eregion and the Master Smith?

"Might we have a moment in private?" You ask. There is no hesitation in his response. Celebrimbor dismisses his smiths, and in mere minutes, the two of you are alone. He seems perfectly content to be with you where no other eyes can see. "I don't understand. We've only just met, and I don't even know who I am, but here you are reforging and creating something so beautiful for a stranger," You pick up the circlet with delicate fingers, turning it over to gaze at the gem in the center. It's a very delicate design that incorporates much of the Elvish culture within it. "Why?"

There's a beat of silence that you interpret as apprehension. Answering this question requires a certain sense of vulnerability that he so often shies away from.

What he does instead surprises you.

''Because," Celebrimbor's voice drops to a whisper as he settles the delicate circlet in your hair, and you can't help but smile at how gentle it is. "You are.. different."

That's all he leaves you with. You're left to wonder what about you is different. What about you puts him so at ease.

***

Celebrimbor had not told anyone outside of Galadriel, Elrond and The High King what was known of your origins. What little the two of you could come up with about them. All the five of you are aware of is that you hold a great power with magic that brings the skill of healing and persuasion of any life form, and that you fell to Middle Earth within its vast oceans and found yourself destitute mere miles away from Eregion.

"It's almost like your coming was a sign."

Your visions turn out to be correct, much to your horror.

After Gil-Galad and Elrond’s departure, you find yourself lingering in your chambers with your circlet poised in your hands as you internally fight through all the evidence you have lingering in your head. Celebrimbor doesn't know what to make of it, and neither do you.

That turns out not to be your concern once you see him trudging past your bedroom, muttering to himself in Sindarin as he attempts to massage his shoulder with his hand.

"Celebrimbor?" You call, mindful to call quietly so that his smiths and the staff do not hear you. He always hears you. Always has, always will. "Are you alright?"

His aspect says one thing, but his eyes say another. "There is always tension that builds within the muscles and tendons of the body after working vigorously in the forge. I am just stiff. It is not a concern you need to bother yourself with-"

You raise a brow at his veiled attempt to console you. It doesn't work. Glancing over your shoulder, you quickly follow on his heels to his chambers where you slip inside just before he can shut the door.

He freezes. The two of you are alone. Properly alone.

"This is quite.." You falter in search of the right word. "If anyone knew I was in here, it would arouse suspicion. I can tell you're in pain. We both know that you cannot alleviate that on your own." You pause to interject, "Only if you truly want the help. I would be happy to serve."

Realization dawns in his eyes. Neither of you are properly aware of how close you really are to each other, much less the fact that your hand is pressed against his heart. It flutters under your touch.

He's nervous.

Your creased brow softens when Celebrimbor winces again at the turn of his head, and your eyes focus on his neck. "I am in a great amount of pain," He confesses quietly. It's quite a feat for him to be so willing to be vulnerable with you. Especially when you have yet to see him ask for help from anyone else, including Galadriel or Gil-Galad. "And I would be much appreciative of the help."

Celebrimbor would never admit it out loud, but something swelled within him at the sight of your smile as you rushed back to your chambers to gather the oils you had stored there. He had come to care for you a great deal. That was dangerous. There was too much at stake with his House and his past... A past that he would rather never speak aloud for fear of having to truly relive it.

"You'd be more at least if you lie down," You remark softly, laughing as his eyes snap open in alarm. "The oils only work with skin contact. Are you okay with that?"

It takes him a moment to realize what you're doing: You're both asking for his consent, and you're giving him the opportunity to say no. It's just another thing that draws him to you.

You turn away to grant Celebrimbor a modicum of privacy while you prepare yourself and the oils you brought. By the time you turn around, you nearly drop the vials. You should have assumed he'd have scars. That there would be old burns and far more muscle that he could hide under those robes.

The only piece of clothing he was wearing covered very little.

"Celebrimbor," You whisper. He cannot help the shiver that runs down his body when your fingers come into contact with his spine. It has been centuries since he had last allowed himself to be touched, and to be touched in such an intimate and positive way was foreign. "Are you in pain?"

You already know the answer to this question. He lays down on the bed and tucks his hands under his forehead. There's several moments of silence that pass before you hear him murmur, "I have been in pain for quite a long time, nin tinu. There has only been one thing that alleviates it."

The Sindarin that rolls off his tongue rings clear in your head. My star.

"What eases your pain, My Lord?"

Your oiled fingertips, doused in lavender oil, have just made contact with his shoulders when he answers: "You. It has been you from the moment you entered my gates, and it will be you for however long you remain here, if you wish to remain here in Eregion with me. You are not obligated to do so. I know you want to regain your memories.”

You mull over his words as your fingers travel his skin. You mark your touch with firm yet gentle presses against the valleys of his back, dragging your fingers across raised scars that arouse much curiosity within you. Celebrimbor melts into the bed beneath you as he allows himself to absorb a touch he had not realized he craved so deeply for an entire lifetime.

"You have introduced me to such a peace since I have been here. A peace that comes from being in the presence of people who truly care about you, of people who truly want the best for you. That's why you have not told anyone of my heritage. That is why you keep me so close to your side. To protect me.” Your ministrations have had their desired effect, because the moment you dig your fingers into where he'd been trying to massage earlier, it elicits a low groan from his chest. "Never has this destitute elf felt such peace as I have learning and living with and from you. I would be honored and privileged to remain in Eregion."

He's thankful in that moment that his face is hidden. Celebrimbor grimaces as tears prick the back of his eyes, blurring the sight of the blankets beneath him. He'd never experienced something as trivial as being loved in such a gentle, genuine manner.

"Dorth... nev na nin."

Again it rang clear as day. You were realizing the longer that Celebrimbor spoke in the Sindarin tongue that you were most definitely familiar with it.

He's asking you to stay with him. Permanently.

"Roll onto your back," You whisper. He complies with ease, showing you a stunning shade of hazel in the eyes that look back at you. "I-"

It's right there on the tip of your tongue as fingers stained with lavender oil linger right at the hair on his temples. You know you have been drawn to him since you arrived. It's not the hesitation in confession, it's in his response.

His lips part of their own accord as you bend your head to press your forehead against his own. You both want to kiss the other, and badly, but this act alone is intimate enough. It is too soon.

Celebrimbor’s breath fans over your face as he shudders, eyes flickering upward to meet yours through the hair that veils your face. "Just let me..."

Celebrimbor parts your hair to tuck it behind your ear and lifts his head just enough to graze his lips against your cheek. It's barely a kiss, more the ghost of a kiss then anything, but the way it puts your body at such ease speaks more then a real kiss could've.

His heart is pounding when he meets your eyes.

You're laughing when you part. He doesn't know why. What Celebrimbor does know is that the stiffness in his muscles is gone, replaced by an inexplicable warmth he's never quite felt before.

The shade of your eyes has been illuminated by a silver the same color of the jewel in your circlet, which is now glowing from where it sits upon your head.

He'll have to question that later.

"Why are you laughing? It's quite inappropriate to laugh in such a circumstance-"

You press your fingers to his lips. Celebrimbor is blushing so hard you're sure that his cheeks will stay that color for the rest of the night.

"If you wanted to get unclothed in front of me to have me touch you, all you had to do was ask."

#Celebrimbor #Celebrimbor x Reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #rings of power #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power spoilers

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crimsoncandy04 · 2 months ago

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I'm secretly obsessed with the yandere Kabukimono thing I wrote about once lk.

So like I kinda thought about it and came up with some more head canons for this alternate universe where Wanderer in his past is obsessed with someone to the point of it being unhealthy.

Kabuki is more gentle natured and naive in comparison to the man he'd eventually become, but he's not an entirely different one at the end of the day and the desire to be wanted by someone would definitely still be there. It's just not as toxic yet.

So I feel like if he were just out and about one day and suddenly locked eyes with a young woman and felt instant and extreme attraction to her, at first he'd kinda freak out but would be ultimately curious about the raging new flow of emotions he's experiencing and would quickly try to speak with her as soon as possible.

After greeting her and having their first conversation together he'd want her attention immediately every day after that and all to himself. As he would figure out very quickly that seeing this girl spend time with others would cause him to feel insecure and paranoid. Fearing that he's not enough for her in some way thus making her want the company of other men and pushing him away.

Personally I don't see Kabukimono doing your typical yandere violence shit.

He's still too sweet.

But that doesn't mean he's not clingy and obsessive here in this verse.

I feel like his empathetic and selfless nature would become his weapon of choice here. And he'd be more emotionally manipulative and controlling but NOT to the extreme of Scara yet. He's still too inexperienced and doesn't want to do something he outright sees as bad yk because he's a sweet guy still? He just doesn't know how to handle his intense feelings here.

He'd probably try to take up all of her time constantly. Always doing as much as possible for her so that she had no reason to seek outside help for anything and always finding ways to make her feel like she had to stay with him for long hours so she didn't have time for anyone else either.

He'd be hesitant to bad mouth anyone but he'd probably try to make a big deal out of things when he sees someone do something questionable like

"someone said they saw _ doing _. I had no idea he was such a selfish person like that. You really shouldn't spend time with people like that Y/N." Or something along those lines.

He'd frame it all as just wanting the best for her and him trying to be considerate while slowly becoming suffocating and stalkery.

And YES. He'd stalk her.

But only because he doesn't understand what he's doing. At least by moral standards.

Kabukimono only understands that he wants to know what this girl's doing constantly because he just enjoys being around her and knowing she's content and safe.

He has absolutely no idea why people keep reprimanding him for hiding in the bushes outside her house and following her while she's out foraging or running errands.

He just wants to always be by her side!

What's wrong with that?

(he has little to no understanding of social cues or rules yet)

When it comes to intimacy, Kabuki is a mix of red flags and green ones. On one hand he's supposed to be a yandere in this scenario and OF COURSE he'd be yearning for a moment of physical affection with his cherished one.

But obviously he wouldn't do anything drastic or vile.

He's still kabu after all.

I feel like he'd be physically touchy anyway, but until he figures out what fornication is, it's mostly just hugs that go on for too long and little cheek kisses and stuff. Like sweet hand holding too.

But after he learns what it means to bed someone, he'd be a man with only one thing on his mind. Yet not because he's some overly horny pervert.

But rather because he's just learned about something new and exciting sounding that would allow him to get VERY close with his beloved. And of course because we're in ancient Inazuma (Japan), I'm sure anything he read about the topic would convince him that he had to be the initiator and dominant one when laying with a woman. So he'd make sure he did it "right" and make the first move like mortal men "should".

I feel like he'd do something embarrassing here just because again, he obviously doesn't understand subtlety or flirtation enough to have any kind of game. So he'd probably just ask over dinner or something and shock everyone. And until he's made aware that it's creepy and inappropriate, he'd probably keep asking too until someone pulled him aside and informed him on why he shouldn't discuss such things in front of people.

However after that (if she eventually gave in) he'd try to do nice things he read about that women supposedly enjoyed. Because after all he'd still want his partner to feel like he's irreplaceable and therefore not want to get rid of him.

He'd try to impress her here a little. In other words.

Also thankfully he's open to suggestions and will immediately listen to anything she says to him during the act.

So if she doesn't like something, she could easily just let him know and he'd stop.

Kabukimono is like the most green flag of a yandere there could ever be.

But his abandonment trauma does make him a little uncomfortably clingy and insecure at times. Especially when it comes to being possibly "overshadowed ' by another person in any way.

From his perspective he wasn't good enough for his creator.

So in his mind the most important thing is that he constantly proves to his beloved that he is irreplaceable and necessary in nearly every aspect of her life.

#genshin impact #smut #genshin impact smut #genshin kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono x y/n #kabukimono #yandere #headcanon #genshin smut

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redxx95 · 7 months ago

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Exploring Kurosawa's internalized homophobia and compulsive heterosexuality

oh yea baby we bustin out the Big Words for this one 😎

This was supposed to be posted at the end of pride month but Life happened and it got delayed a lot 😩 So yea happy pride month (and happy birthday Kurosawa I guess 😂)

(btw I think I've never mentioned this on any of my other posts but english is not my first language, so if anything I write ever sounds awkward, that's probably why 😅) (also I had to merge a bunch of images to get around the image limit, this post is really long, the word count is at 1930 words 💀)

Hope you guys enjoy the read! 💞

Spoilers for anything up to vol 11

Let me start this by saying that there's no actual textual evidence of Kurosawa being gay (rather than bi/pan), so this interpretation is definitely veering towards headcanon territory. I'm also not trying to establish this as the only Correct opinion and anyone is of course allowed to have their own sexuality headcanons, this is very healthy and valid 👍

Kurosawa's internalized homophobia

The first scene I want to put under a magnifying glass is this one.

Let's examine what's going on here: Kurosawa has just tried to kiss Adachi, whose hesitation he perceived as disgust. Then he pretends it was disgusting for him too, because he thinks that is the average reaction anyone would have, extending this to Adachi as well. The way he says "who'd be into that?" is already lowkey homophobic, but the japanese line makes it even more evident: "普通嫌だよな" (= "Normally, you'd dislike that right?"). Keyword here being "普通" = "normal, ordinary", implying that anyone who would like that is abnormal. So what does that say about him then, who was so happy to get the chance to kiss another man? This is pretty much textbook internalized homophobia, where he has accepted what he perceives to be the general opinion on gay people and has made those values his own, hating himself for it (albeit only briefly here), which is why he internally apologizes to Adachi.

This is not the only instance of him feeling like that, although this next part is slightly more speculative than the more obvious example above.

So we all know that Kurosawa is a jealous, jealous man. It's one of his defining character traits and it's often the source of conflict and comedy alike. But he does not express his jealousy equally across genders. With men he has this strong rivalry where he needs to prove himself better and more worthy of Adachi's attention.

But with women he has a different approach: gently coaxing them away from him, lest they realize what a catch Adachi really is.

So, why this difference? The answer I have is that he doesn't actually believe he can compete with a woman. If Adachi wants to be close with a man, Kurosawa thinks it might as well be him, he's the best option after all. But if Adachi wants a woman, he cannot offer anything and is therefore the inferior option. He believes this even after he found out Adachi's not completely repulsed at the idea of being with a man. Even if Adachi's okay with men, he'll always prefer a woman.

And whenever he imagines anyone else with Adachi, it's always a woman, specifically Fujisaki, which he believes is "his type".

And he at least thinks he's very far away from that ideal. (He's not but that's a topic for a different essay.) If anyone's wondering why he even bothers at all then if he's so sure that a woman will out-compete him, I think the lyrics from the anime opening actually put it best, specifically the last verse:

I have these impatient feelings I doubt this love will come to fruition But still I can't give up this happiness There's a feeling here I can't resist A love like a castle in the sky

So basically, his plan is that he might as well ride the high of his first ever crush as far as it will go, intercepting where he can to prolong it just that little bit further, until it all inevitably comes to an end. (a castle in the sky = an unreachable dream) This plan kind of fluctuates throughout volumes 1-3 as Adachi gives him a bunch of mixed signals, but it holds true most of the time.

Adachi's side

Now I'd like to highlight the way Adachi actually thinks about their relationship, because it serves as a great contrast to Kurosawa's assumptions about him.

Throughout the first three volumes we see him grapple with his newfound feelings for Kurosawa, but he (almost) never puts his gender at the forefront of his musings. The manga makes it very clear that it's his lack of romantic experience and low self esteem that make it hard for him to accept Kurosawa's affections, and not the fact that he's a man.

This second page here being his own little gay awakening, where he realizes that he is not, in fact, disgusted by intimacy with a man.

It's also worth mentioning that when he later introduces Kurosawa to his parents (ch 41), they are immediately welcoming of him, suggesting he grew up in a very tolerant environment.

And it's not like he's completely unaware of heteronormativity/homophobia either, especially after he does his research in vol 8, but he is slightly more defiant in responding to it.

(I love how he just buys that bag he probably doesn't need that's supposed to come with all the wedding magazines, just as this very tiny act of rebellion.)

So now that we can see how different Kurosawa's thought patterns are compared to Adachi's, the next question we should ask ourselves is: Why is he like that?

Heteronormativity in Kurosawa's life

(yes we're finally getting to the comphet part of the essay 😂)

First let's look at the environment he grew up in. There are not many scenes with his family, but from those that we do have, we can at least make some assumptions about how he must've been raised.

His mother is clearly the authority figure in his life, judging by how she's described as "strong" and how terrified he is at her merely setting down a teacup (while Adachi has a more mild reaction). Her reaction to the news of them dating and Kurosawa expecting his parents to go as far as disowning him for it would suggest that she might just be generally homophobic.

But when they actually go meet her we see this slightly more nuanced perspective.

She's not entirely against it, but she does believe they are making a mistake by choosing to be together, hence why she thinks they might "regret it". There's many hardships that gay couples in Japan face, some of which we even see discussed in the manga, so it's not hard to see why she would be concerned for her son. The way she talks about Kurosawa never causing any problems, but "changing" ever since he fell for Adachi further supports that conformity is what she believes will ultimately lead to a successful, happy life. And that's also why she accepts Adachi later, when he's made it abundantly clear in his speech that they are happier in this non-conforming relationship than they were without it.

To contrast, her other child Mari is shown to have a very progressive stance (see: her pep talk in ch 47) and it would not surprise me if that is the reason she's rarely in japan and is never seen together with her family, save for the one time they're all at the wedding. She might find the conforming environment too restrictive and preferring to keep her distance. (shoutout to naina for this bit 🙏)

So that's Kurosawa's family situation. Now let's check how his social circle holds up.

From what we see of his friends, they never even seem to consider him possibly being with a man.

And his work environment seems rather toxic to say the least.

It clearly dictates traditional gender roles as the ideal. Nobody except Fujisaki even clocks any of Kurosawa's advances on Adachi as romantic in nature, even though he seems to be quite obvious about it (see: ch 34.5). And it's not like dating in general is discouraged at Toyokawa either, as we can see from all the women constantly vying for Kurosawa's attention.

From all this we can conclude that Kurosawa's upbringing and social/work environment is painfully heteronormative and until he falls for Adachi it seems he never questioned the status quo either.

The famous onsen scene, while funny, also reveals the sad truth that Kurosawa, in his 30 years of life, probably never even had the chance to explore his sexual orientation, rather focusing on being "perfect" in his straight relationships.

Speaking of those relationships...

He apparently had a bunch of girlfriends, who all seem to have dumped him pretty early on. His mother's surprise at him expressing a willingness to commit also makes me think he's never brought anyone home either. He also only seems to have a surface level understanding of what a proper relationship is supposed to entail, if his idea of an ideal date is just "what the average person" thinks is romantic. So why were all of his relationships so short-lived? Before I answer that...

Intermission: Kurosawa's smiles

It has come to my attention that this is not common knowledge, so let me explain: There's a way to tell apart Kurosawa's fake smiles from his real ones, without any context clues, just purely visually.

Real smiles: (ch 23, 24, 37)

Fake smiles: (ch 5, 13, 32)

The difference being very simple: Blush = real, no blush = fake 👍 And before anyone mentions it: No he doesn't just blush when he's around Adachi, that last fake smile is actually directed at him. (ch 32)

Edit from the future: This holds true like 90% of the time, but as Toyota's art style becomes more detailed, this doesn't apply as much in the newer volumes. I think there's also new details added that I haven't quite figured out yet so take this bit with a grain of salt. (The images below are still from her early art style though.)

So now that we have this additional knowledge, let's take a look at every instance Kurosawa is paired with a woman.

He's smiling in all of these. Not a single one has a real smile in it though.

I think he's never actually had his heart in any of his relationships, and the girls probably noticed it and that's why they dumped him.

And, of course, the first time he actually falls in love...

... just so happens to be with a man.

Even his friends comment on this, who have known him since high school.

It's almost funny how perfectly this aligns with real life gay people. Having numerous, short-lived relationships with people of the "wrong" gender is one of the more common traits of compulsive heterosexuality. (source: me oof) (but also shoutout to the "Am I a lesbian?" masterdoc, google it if you don't know, it's truly eye-opening)

After dating Adachi

So we have already established that he's far happier when he does finally get to date Adachi, but do any of his other thought patterns change?

Honestly it seems like he throws every single reservation about being seen as gay out the window.

He starts bragging like crazy about his new relationship to anyone willing (and unwilling) to listen, he has no qualms about PDA, he marks Adachi up and down so everyone knows he's taken and the only thing stopping him from proclaiming his love for Adachi to the whole world is the still very much existing societal homophobia. But he is a lot more easy-going about it now than he ever was before.

And I think the best way to describe this mental shift is, hear me out, the date song from volume 4...

... specifically the last 2 verses as a whole, and this section in particular:

"I won't let anyone divide our fraction! You couldn't pry this thrill from my hands when they're cold and dead!"

Horrible lyrics aside, this perfectly encapsulates how Kurosawa simply couldn't care less anymore now that he finally has what he's wanted for more than a year, maybe even his whole life. All the societal pressure pales in comparison to the sheer euphoria he feels at finally having someone that he loves and who loves him back just as strongly, feeling cared for and seen like no one else ever did.

And, you know, just happens to be a man. 🏳️‍🌈

#cherry magic #my essays #this is the mother of all essays I've ever done jesus christ #this thing spawned like 8 other post ideas btw #can't wait to finally get to those lmao

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